Unfaithful
by Emerald.VS.Silver
Summary: Harry isn't quite so faithful to his boyfriend but maybe this isn't such a bad thing. He gets to spend one night with Dean after all. Two-shot, themes of intimate partner violence.
1. Chapter 1

**Unfaithful**

"Dean- No I can't I have a boyfriend..." Harry trailed off as the mouth on his neck moved up to his ear and nibbled softly on the lobe.

"He's an asshole."

"But-Dean..." Contrary to his words Harry's arms slipped around the Americans neck.

"If you want me to stop, one word from you and I won't kiss you for the rest of my stay in England.

"I- Okay." Dean went to pull away but Harry's hand on his bicep stopped him, "No I mean stay. Stay here with me. Be with me."

"Okay." The taller male wrapped Harry in his long arms and pulled him closer while their lips found each other again.

"Dean..." Harry moaned softly under his breath.

"Yeah?"

"Don't hurt me." Dean looked down into Harry's wide emerald eyes and ran his fingers through the messy mane. He was reminded at that moment just how small his beautiful little Harry was and how fragile his body was even if his magic was the strongest in the world.

"I'd never hurt you." Harry seemed to accept that as an appropriate answer because he leaned up and claimed Dean's soft lips. He allowed Dean to lift him in one smooth motion and wrapped his legs around the slim waist at the Hunters insistence. His hands became tangled in short light brown strands as Dean began slowly walking towards the main bedroom. One of his large hands was on the back of Harry's thigh and the other was supporting his upper back just in case he leaned backwards. When they finally reached the closed door to Harry's bedroom Dean was forced to pull away from their kiss in order to open the door, much to Harry's disappointment if the slight whimper was anything to go by.

Dean allowed the two of them to fall onto the bed locked together in yet another passionate kiss. Harry's hands unlocked from his neck once he realized that there was no way he could possibly fall to the ground and allowed himself to trail his hands down Deans frame. The pads of his fingers outlined toned pecs and abs over the thin black shirt which certainly hadn't left much to the imagination. Harry just needed to make sure everything was as perfect as the shirt made it feel so he slipped his fingers under to meet warm skin. He was pleased to note that everything was in order as his hands moved up Dean's shirt, as his fingers moved up Dean's stomach the muscles under his fingers concaved and a laugh escaped through their joined lips. He was ticklish, that was news to Harry, and he decided to let it go but store the information away for later use.

Dean once again broke their kiss and Harry pouted as Dean sat up, moving the welcoming weight from Harry's body. The Hunter smirked but tugged his own shirt off before moving to also pull Harry's off. The soft slightly pale skin that was laid out in front of him for his eyes to feast on was perfect in its own imperfect way. Dean's lips descended on one particular scar that ran diagonally across Harry's body from his shoulder to his waist and he had to wonder how much that would have hurt. He didn't want Harry to ever be hurt again; he was too good, too selfless for what life had thrown at him.

Harry pulled Deans mouth from the white scar with impatient hands. He guided those soft lips back to his own with an urgency that shocked even himself but Dean grinned and leaned back down to meet him halfway. Harry relaxed into the gentle touch from those rough fingers and allowed Dean to take control of their situation.

-x-x-x-x-

"You're beautiful." Dean murmured as he ran his hands through Harry's hair and over his face as they laid together in a post-coital bliss.

"I'm male."

"So? You're still beautiful." Dean moved a lock of hair behind Harry's ear and grazed his soft cheek in the process, "He doesn't deserve you Harry." He whispered with a sombre tone.

"He'll never let me go."

"Then don't ask." Dean pressed a soft kiss to the slight bruise at Harry's temple, "Just leave."

"He'll come after me." Harry leaned into the touch unconsciously, his eyes drifting close as Deans fingers trailed from his waist to his hips, "He'll always come after me."  
"Not if you leave with me. If the FBI can't find us then neither can your derranged boyfriend." Harry broke out of Dean's grip and rolled away from the Hunter.

"I...can't. I can't. I shouldn't have done this, I love him, I do... And he said, he said he'll never do it again he's just stressed because of the team."

"Harry, how many times has he said that?" Dean followed Harry out of bed and pulled on his underwear in the process. He didn't quite understand why Harry had changed his attitude so suddenly but at least they could address the subject instead of leaving it simmering between them or days.

"Dean, don't..."

"Harry," Dean took his shoulders in his hands and gave him a slight shake, "Don't you understand. He's not going to stop and it wasn't just once."

"Stop it." Harry knocked Dean's arms away from him and went to search for his clothes which were scattered around the room, "Just stop it."

"It wasn't sex. I know what sex feels like and what we just did...was so much more than that."

"Leave Dean. Just...please leave."

"You know I'm right though." Dean said and he shut the door behind him.

Harry collapsed onto the side of the bed and buried his head in his hands. To anyone that would ask, he wasn't crying, he just had something in his eye.

-x-x-x-x-

Hermione was sat on one of the couches in her personal library with Sam Winchester sat opposite her, she found it amusing that the book he held open on his lap was bigger than the one on her own. She was dying to speak up and talk to him about Harry and his brother but he seemed to be so immersed in the information that she didn't want to disturb him.

"What's up?" He asked, his eyes raising up from the book to look at her.

"How did you...?"

"Well when you research with Dean on a regular basis it's not hard to notice when there's a question hanging around."

"Okay, well I was just wondering if you've noticed the behaviour between Harry and Dean. I mean, is it just me or has something happened between them?"

"No, it's not just you. I've been wondering the same thing there's tension between them but I don't know what it's come from."

"Do you think you can get him to tell you?"

"No way, Dean closes off every time emotions are brought up. Unless he brings them up himself...It the only time I can get anything out of him."

"Harry seems really upset with him. I just hope they haven't done something...regrettable."

"What? Like...slept together?"

"Yeah."

"Erm-" Sam's answer was cut off by Dean's entrance into the room with bags of greasy take-out. Hermione had apologised earlier on behalf of her husband who had once again forgotten to go shopping after his shift at the Ministry.

"Hey you crazy kids." Dean grinned as he dropped down onto one of the sofas."

"Out!" Hermione shouted, "Out! Out! Out! No eating in here!" She shooed them out, even going as far as to push them out of the library and right into Ron who was innocently walking passed.

"You took food in there didn't you?" He asked in a knowing tone after the door has slammed behind them.

"Yeah, dude she went mental."

"Tell me about it. You might as well go eat in the kitchen. I'll drag her down in a sec." He said with a grin as he opened the door.

"What was up with her? Se totally went school librarian on our asses."

"To be honest Dean a lot of those books in there are rare and expensive, I kinda get why she went mental."

"Whatever dude. Let's eat."

They were interrupted from their food by a loud and impatient knocking at the front door followed by a shout of 'Got it!' from Hermione who must have only been at the top of the stairs. Dean groaned and practically threw down his burger in frustration as he stood up and made his way to the main hallway, gun in hand.

"Will you at least make it look like you aren't holding a gun? We do have regular guests you know." Dean rolled his eyes at the witch and tucked it under the belt of his jeans and pulled his shirt down to cover it. Hermione gave him a small smile of thanks before opening the door again.

"Her-Hermione." Came a small voice as soon as she swung it open.

"Oh my God! Harry! What happened?" She exclaimed as Harry stood in the open doorway with blood trickling down his face, his hand pressed to a wound in his leg and a shirt with the majority of the buttons missing. She immediately jumped forward to help him limp into the house wearily.

"Hermione is Dean here? I need to-" His words trailed off as he saw the Hunter step forward and help him into the house.

"First-Aid kit?" He asked her as he lifted Harry fully into his arms and took him into the living-room where he laid him down onto the couch.

"I don't want to stain-"

"I'll buy Hermione a new couch. Stay still Harry." Dean pushed him flat on his back and pressed his hand tightly against, what he could now make out, a stab wound in his thigh.

"What happened? Was it...?" Dean stopped talking as a brief look of emotional pain flittered across his features.

"He got violent and you were right, he never planned on stopping. So I tried to leave and I don't know how it happened, all of a sudden I was dragged down to the floor and then he stabbed me. I couldn't stop him. I-I couldn't..." Harry's face was buried in Dean's neck and tears were running freely down his face as he sobbed.  
"Oh God, Harry. He didn't try to...rape you? Did he?" Dean rubbed Harry's back as the brunette nodded against his neck.

"Son of a Bitch. I'm gonna rip his goddamn lungs out."

"He tried. I think my magic lashed out at him because he was flying across the room and I was free so I ran and apparated here."

"And now you're safe." Dean promised as he wiped away a smear of blood and kissed him full on the lips, Harry replied with a slight press back but then he feel back against the couch with a hiss as Deans hand tightened slightly.

"Shit sorry." Dean looked around to see where everyone else was and noticed that they were standing around the room, including Hermione who was standing at the doorway in shock, with a green box in her hand.

"Dean," Harry whispered, "You know when you go back home?"

"Yeah?" Dean leaned in closer to hear Harry's soft reply.

"I'm going with you." And he passed out.

_A/N – So my first posted Harry/Dean, I've been writing bits of different plots for a while but I thought I might as well post something. This is just a One-Shot at the moment but it is a part of something bigger that I've had in my head for a while, if you'd like me to continue then let me know but it may not be for a while, I've got a lot going on._

_I hope you liked it and thanks for reading_

_-E.V.S_


	2. Chapter 2

**Attack**

Harry was making dinner. He thought that this single act of normality would help to get his head in order; he had hoped that the familiar movements of chopping and slicing would give his mind time to think some things through. When he says some things, he means one thing. One thing being Dean. Dean who had protected him, held him, kissed him, made love to-

Harry stopped that train of thought from going any further. Even though Dean had asked him to go back to America with them and had promised that he would always be protected, he couldn't allow that old fairytale idea take over him. That idea of the handsome Prince Charming coming to rescue the pitiful Damsel in distress from the clutches of the evil wizard. Mainly because he was no damsel in distress and for another Dean was hardly a Prince Charming, but he was attractive and he could do things with his tongue that-

Nope. Not thinking about Deans talented lips, hands...He rested his head against the glass window of the cupboard in front of him in a fruitless attempt to prevent the headache from manifesting, even though he was already beginning to feel the slight pulsing at his temple. Yet he was still nowhere near figuring out his feelings for his boyfriend. Harry loved him. He really did or else he wouldn't have stayed so long and after each time he got...angry...He would hold Harry and love him and tell him that it would never happen again.

He couldn't help but wonder if that was what Dean meant by 'he wasn't going to stop' because so far Harry had received countless promises of no more violence and no more drinking but they never seemed to be followed through. Harry's fist tightened around the large knife and in frustration he raised it slowly, bringing it down onto the wooden board in a sharp stabbing motion. The tip of the blade was embedded in the wood. Harry looked down at it in wonder while letting go of the blade to see if it would stay up. It did. Anchored in place by the weight of the board and the perfect balance of the blade.

Maybe this knife was exactly like his relationship. He had strong enough feelings to anchor himself in one place while being unwilling to move like the knife. Yet his relationship was held in the balance of love and anger, Harry reasoned with himself that one more act of either then the blade would fall. It just depended on which side it fell on. Harry took the handle in his hand and pulled the blade free from the solid wooden chopping board. Or maybe his decision will be based on Dean. So maybe with his knife Dean could be gravity...pushing on all sides of him trying to get him to move and fall free of the anchor.

Or maybe he was looking into this way too much and the knife is just a knife in a chopping board.

Harry's thought process trailed off as the front door to the flat was thrown open, the force of it caused the handle to rebound off the wall, probably marking the white wallpaper, before finally being slammed shut. Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath, collecting himself before the kitchen door could also be thrown open and his one moment of peace and privacy interrupted. As expected the door was opened, with no less force then the previous one, allowing a broad figure to enter the room. He dropped his Quidditch bag on to the tiled floor and splashed mud everywhere. To be completely honest, Harry had no idea how a bag could become so muddy and it wasn't like it was from any part of his uniform that was seeping through the material because they never even touch the ground, especially not when it's been raining. For a sports team Harry had to admit they were pretty prissy about their appearance.

"What? No, hi honey how was work? Go put your feet up?" He asked as a slight shadow crossed his face when he realised that Harry had no intention of greeting him like a proper boyfriend should.

"Sorry, why don't you go sit down. I'm just making dinner." Harry said as he picked up the bag and placed it in front of the washer so he could wash them while the veg was boiling.

"I'll just sit in here. No kiss?" He asked, grabbing Harry's wrist and dragging him closer with as much force as he would use on a bludger.

"Yeah, course." Harry leaned up, tilting his head back. He had been so indulged with Deans soft lips and spine tingling kisses that he had almost forgot what his usual kisses felt like. With a tongue forced through his lips and his breathing cut off until he was seeing black spots, a forceful hand on the back of his neck demanding him closer and one on his lower back so he couldn't pull away. Teeth were nibbling at the sides of his mouth slightly harshly than normal and Harry could tell that he was pissed.

It wasn't what a kiss was supposed to feel like, Harry finally realised. Before Dean he had only ever been kissed by one person and said person was now trying to initiate some kind of sexual fondling in the middle of Harry's kitchen. This wasn't a proper kiss at all. Dean's kisses were gentle and not harsh, giving and not taking, they made him feel special and maybe even loved. Harry couldn't take it, he pulled away from those demanding hands which had now reached his arse and were roughly kneading the muscles there. It was slightly painful, as he was still recovering from the after effects of his one night with Dean, even if it had been a few nights ago. Harry would never admit this to Dean's face but he was definitely larger than the average male.

"Baby, we were only just getting started." He tried to pull Harry back but the Gryffindor stepped out of the way.

"I-I have to finish dinner and you'll need your kit for tomorrow."

"Dinner can wait and my kit can be scourgified." Hands were on Harry's wrists pulling him forward.

"You know I prefer to wash things, and I know how hungry you get so it's better if we eat earlier rather than later."

"Come on Harry! You've been pushing me away for the last few days. What is with you?"

"I just don't feel up to it at the moment." Harry admitted while wincing at what his reaction was going to be. He was probably jumping to conclusions right now, maybe even-

"You're sleeping with someone else." It was a low, quiet statement. Harry held his breath, he had heard of the calm before the storm.

"No, no of course I haven't." Harry lied, trying to get him to back off long enough to calm down.

"Yes you are." The short sentence erupted from his mouth in a low growl that seemed like it was coming from an animal rather than a human. Harry backed against the worktop as he took a step towards the Gryffindor, who wasn't feeling very Gryffindor like at this moment in time.

"No." Harry's responses seemed weak even to his own ears. Weak and pitiful.

"Don't lie to me Harry. You know I don't like being lied to."

"I-I'm not lying."

Weak.

"Harry!" The growl grew stronger as his anger rose.

"I promise."

Pitiful.

He was a goddamn Gryffindor. He had defeated Voldemort more than once, more than twice if you counted his school years. He was powerful. He was an Auror. So why the hell couldn't he stand up for himself? He had enough power to knock his supposed 'boyfriend' off his feet with a simple flick of his wand. Harry dropped the knife as he was forced to lean further backwards away from the angry Beater who was coming towards him.

"You're a Goddamn liar Harry."

"Shut up." Harry spat out. He had done it! He had stood up for himself! Finally said something against-

"What did you just say?" Was the yell that interrupted Harry's internal congratulations.

"I said, shut up." The Gryffindor repeated it in a calm and collected voice that betrayed none of his internal fighting. One half was having a party at his newly found courage; the other was stood wide-eyed in shock thinking ... 'Oh shit'.

"Shut up?"

"Yeah. Shut up. I've had enough of you. I've had enough of your drinking, your beating and your sleeping around - oh yeah I know about all the girls and guys you've been with. Did you think I was an idiot?"

"You can't break up with me." The growl had almost disappeared but his face had changed from an angry red to one of embarrassment. He had obviously never been the dumpee before but Harry couldn't care less. He may be in love with the man but he couldn't live like this any longer.

"I can and I am. I'm Harry Potter, I'm the saviour. Do you know what will happen to you if it ever gets out what you've been doing to me?"

"I've never done anything you haven't deserved, you're a selfish bastard."

"I'm Selfish!" Harry questioned and explained at the same time, "Everything I've done for this relationship has been for you. The only thing I've done without thinking of you is sleeping with-"

"So did cheat!"

"Yes. I slept with someone else. He was brilliant! He showed me what I've been missing, and trust me, it's nothing you could give."

"You selfish little shit!" He lunged.

There was nowhere for Harry to go, he was already fully pressed against the worktop and moving to either side would probably get him in an even worse position. Large hands grabbed his smaller body and threw him down onto the floor, the movement caused Harry's arm to sweep against the chopping board, dragging everything down with him. Harry made to catch himself with his arms to prevent his head from cracking against the hard floor but his palms slid on the dirty floor, sending him crashing face first into black and white tiles. Harry turned awkwardly to look up at the dark shadow looming over him.

Harry was once against powerless and helpless. He hadn't counted on how inferior his physical strength was in comparison even though it should have been the first thing he had thought of. Constant Vigilance. What would Moody say?

Harry tried to propel himself backwards as the menacing figure took a step forward and leaned over the Gryffindor with a downright scary grin stretching across his lips. This is point where Harry wished he had thought to carry his wand around everywhere; it was currently sitting on the bedside cabinet where he had left it the previous night before going to bed.

"You think I can't give you what you need?" A single hand reached down and ripped open the front of Harry's shirt, scattering buttons across the kitchen floor. All Harry could do is whimper as he felt the shirt fall open with encouragement from the hands that had ripped it open.

"Don't." Harry cried as cold fingers touched his skin, "Please don't."

"I'm giving you what you want Harry. That's what you asked for right?" Harry shook his head and closed his eyes, wishing he was somewhere far away from this place and this man. Tears fell from his eyes as he heard the unmistakable sound of a belt being opened and jeans being unzipped.

"Look at me!" He exclaimed as he took Harry's wrists in a bruising grip to pry them away from his face, "Look at what you're making me do."

"I haven't made you do anything! Let me go! Please let me go. I promise I won't tell anyone. Please...Please."

"Now Harry, why would I do that? How can I be sure that you'd keep your promise?"

"I will. You know I will."

"Nah. I think I like it this way more." Harry turned his head to the side as he felt the familiar weight of a person straddling his waist; he assumed it was to keep him in place. He felt the tears make their way down his face and land on the tiled floor; he didn't want to give his future rapist the pleasure of seeing him cry.

It was as Harry's belt was being forcibly removed when he noticed it. An innocent looking kitchen knife, laying amongst the mess of vegetables that Harry had knocked to the floor. He reached out for it. Slowly. His fingers creeping along the floor. It was a good job his hands had been released, Harry thought as his fingers closed over the black handle. He needed the right moment, the exact second that would give him the upper hand.

Hands tugged his button open impatiently.

One.

A head bent down to see what his hands were doing.

Two.

A huff of impatience.

Three...

Harry's hand shot forward, the knife handle clutched tightly in his fingers as the stainless steel blade embedded into his attackers upper arm.  
A scream of pain followed by knuckles meeting Harry's face, splitting the skin and causing blood to trail down his temple. Harry's eyes fluttered closed for a second because of the pain thumping through his head. He was so wrapped up in the sudden flare of pain that he wasn't paying attention to what his would-be rapist was doing. This is also why he didn't notice the knife coming down towards his leg until it hit.

Harry thanked his job and his school years for the danger that he put himself in over and over again which had caused almost his entire upper leg to be numbed years ago. He could feel the pain but if his nerves had been completely intact the pain would have been worse. Much worse. Harry kicked out with his one good leg and, somehow, managed to catch the bloody arm which was reaching out to him. Another scream echoed throughout the flat. The distraction was enough for Harry to stand up and rush to his room, while limping, and grab his forgotten wand while his leg throbbed and bled all over the carpets.

One moment of calm. One deep breath. He disapparated.

The one thought in his mind?

Dean.

**A/N - Wow! I never expected such a positive response to any of my stories before! I'm so glad you guys liked it! So just because you all seemed to enjoy it so much I thought I'd give you more. I hope you like this one as much.**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing I really appreciate it :D**

**x E.V.S x**


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